Scum Gong Walks the Career Line in the Crematorium

TL: Moonlit

Father Qi and Qi Yuyu parted ways unhappily.

Before leaving with Father Qi, Qi Fenghua looked at Lin Hanchuan, who seemed hesitant to speak. When Father Qi urged him, Qi Fenghua hurriedly caught up, but he kept turning his head back multiple times as they walked.

Lin Hanchuan felt that it was not appropriate for him to interfere in Qi Family matters, so he stood by and watched the drama unfold. He didn’t utter a word until Qi Fenghua and his father had left.

Qi Yuyu’s gaze lingered on the backs of the two, and upon closer observation, it could be noticed that his eyes were more focused on Qi Fenghua.

“He likes you a lot,” Qi Yuyu said casually.

Although Qi Yuyu had been communicating with Qi’s father, he noticed Qi Fenghua’s ambiguous gaze toward Lin Hanchuan. He could have used a more diplomatic approach to communicate with Father Qi and try to remedy the situation, but he found his attention unconsciously drawn to Qi Fenghua and Lin Hanchuan.

Upon hearing the word “like,” Lin Hanchuan found it amusing, but he couldn’t suppress a slight feeling of physical discomfort. He waved his hand and said, “I can’t bear this kind of liking.”

Among all the people Lin Hanchuan had encountered, Qi Fenghua’s actions were the most terrifying. Even if he disregarded the empathy he felt for the original owner, it was difficult for Lin Hanchuan not to despise this person.

Guiding someone secretly to become a completely different person, transforming them beyond recognition, and thinking that he had done nothing wrong… Lin Hanchuan tried to understand Qi Fenghua’s mindset, and he could sense that Qi Fenghua probably believed that everything he did was “for the good of Yi Qinglou.”

Because Yi Wusheng was too outstanding and had a great personality, while Yi Qinglou was extremely mediocre, Qi Fenghua tried to improve Yi Qinglou, making him more excellent and likable. He believed he was “saving and helping” Yi Qinglou, rather than fulfilling his own desires to transform someone.

Qi Fenghua probably hadn’t even noticed these thoughts in his own heart. He deceived everyone, including himself.

Qi Yuyu could perceive Lin Hanchuan’s undisguised aversion. After spending some time together, he had already realized that Lin Hanchuan was an emotionally restrained person who rarely expressed his likes and dislikes so directly.

Seeing that his own blood brother was disliked, Qi Yuyu knew he should have stood up for his brother, at least to condemn the scumbag. But instead of feeling indignant, he inexplicably felt a subtle sense of relief.

After the relaxation, Qi Yuyu reproached himself for his inexplicable emotions.

Amidst the surging emotions, the owner of the antique shop approached.

Not having witnessed what had just happened, he carefully handed the xuan paper to Qi Yuyu and smiled, “Mr. Qi, your discerning eye was remarkable to begin with, and now you even have such a capable subordinate. It seems that Qi Family’s business is destined to reach new heights.”

His compliments were sincere, but Lin Hanchuan instantly discerned the year of the Xuan paper, surprising the antique shop owner.

Xuan paper, like this, would double in price every ten years. For the Qi Family, a few tens of thousands of yuan was nothing significant, but being taken advantage of was still unpleasant. Unable to deceive them, the antique shop owner could only silently lower the price to that of the xuan paper from fifty years ago, or even lower.

Misunderstood as a subordinate, Lin Hanchuan did not explain and simply treated it as the antique shop owner praising his discerning eye. He said a quick thank you and left the antique shop with Qi Yuyu, each carrying a wooden box.

On the way, Lin Hanchuan casually asked, “What do you plan to paint?”

The first round theme of the Spring Breeze Beauty Exhibition was “hope.” It was a broad and abstract theme that seemed to encompass everything and anything. However, the abundance of choices made it difficult for some people to decide.

Slowing down his pace, Qi Yuyu pondered for a moment before slowly saying, “How about a sunrise?”

Based on Lin Hanchuan’s understanding of traditional Chinese painting, it was challenging to paint just a sunrise or sunset. They were often accompanied by mountains and rivers, evoking a sense of grandeur and magnificence. If the artist had exceptional skills and could delicately depict animals, it would give a lifelike feeling, which indeed aligned with the theme of “hope.”

Thinking it over in his mind, Lin Hanchuan agreed, “That’s a good idea.”

Qi Yuyu knew that Lin Hanchuan had misunderstood his intention. He lowered his head, hooked his lips into a smile, and said nothing to clarify.

The reason for thinking of painting a sunrise was because Lin Hanchuan had praised a painting he did in the past, which was a sunset.

At that time, painting was still Qi Yuyu’s secret hobby that he had to hide from his parents and avoid Qi Fenghua. He would paint alone at home, seeking moments of inner tranquility.

He seemed to have everything—money, status, even looks far surpassing ordinary people—but it was as if he had nothing at all.

The emptiness and confusion in his heart were revealed in his paintings. The sunset painting was gloomy and filled with a lingering sense of twilight. Half the city sank into darkness, while the remaining half was shrouded in shadows. The glow on the horizon was not luminous, but rather filled with fiery anger and despair.

Now, Qi Yuyu’s mindset was completely different from back then. He wanted to paint a sunrise again, for himself and for Lin Hanchuan.

After deciding what to paint, Qi Yuyu went home and secluded himself to paint. He was self-taught and didn’t rely on professional techniques. His style blended characteristics of oil painting and watercolor, freely depicting on xuan paper.

Creating a carefully crafted painting would take several years at the longest or at least several weeks. With the deadline for the Spring Breeze Beauty Exhibition approaching, Qi Yuyu didn’t have much time for refinement. He stayed in his studio for three whole days, painting tirelessly day and night. Finally, he completed the rough draft.

He spent another two days refining the details. Exhausted from several sleepless nights, Qi Yuyu could only manage to call Lin Hanchuan before falling into a deep sleep.

Upon receiving the call, Lin Hanchuan immediately rushed to Qi Yuyu’s home and took the completed painting with him. He managed to personally deliver the artwork to the exhibition venue before the deadline.

The room was filled with various artworks, ranging from tens of thousands to millions of yuan. The person confidently gave Lin Hanchuan the door code and fell into a deep sleep. After returning to Qi Yuyu’s home, Lin Hanchuan couldn’t help but find it both amusing and exasperating to see Qi Yuyu peacefully sleeping with his face buried in the pillow.

After a chuckle, Lin Hanchuan moved Qi Yuyu to the bed, and prepared a bowl of porridge for him, which he could have when he woke up.

Drawing the curtains and adjusting the air conditioning, everything was arranged properly. Lin Hanchuan hurriedly left again as his gallery was in the final stages of preparation and required his supervision on-site.

Amidst the rushed comings and goings, Lin Hanchuan didn’t see that as Qi Yuyu lay on the bed, he turned over and buried his face deep into the pillow, revealing a faint upward curve at the corner of his mouth.

—

The selection of the Spring Breeze Beauty Exhibition in Qingzhou City was held in a high-class auditorium. The floor was covered with artworks, and a projector played the submissions of all participants one by one. Some people scrutinized the artworks on the floor, while others carefully appreciated the works displayed on the projector.

The people present were well-known figures in the art world, and the top-notch artists in Qingzhou City had gathered together. Occasionally, one could hear a few debates.

Zhang Xiwei was the chairman of the Qingzhou City Art Association and one of the representative figures in traditional Chinese painting in the country. He was highly respected.

He walked around the artworks, rarely pausing his gaze, but his sighs were continuous.

“Mr. Zhang, lower your standards a bit.” Someone noticed Zhang Xiwei’s behavior and chuckled. “We are sending three hundred paintings to the capital city. With your standards, we might not even be able to select thirty.”

“These paintings represent the level of Qingzhou City when they are sent to the capital city. If we send these paintings, it’s not embarrassing for you, but I’ll be ashamed.” Zhang Xiwei snorted. “The younger generation nowadays is no match for their predecessors.”

Zhang Xiwei was over sixty years old but still stood tall and straight. Every wrinkle on his face exuded seriousness and old-fashionedness. Each strand of his white hair was neatly combed, perfectly in order.

“The young people nowadays haven’t experienced enough hardships and don’t have much in their hearts. What they paint is too floaty.” Another elderly person sighed, but their footsteps didn’t stop.

After perusing several works, the person finally halted. “This painting is acceptable.”

Zhang Xiwei approached and took a look.

It was an oil painting with the title «Astonishing Waves» written on the plaque. The artist was Qi Fenghua. Zhang Xiwei’s expression softened, and he nodded. “This child, Qi Fenghua, has made considerable progress in the past two years.”

Many people in the circle knew him to some extent. Zhang Xiwei had seen Qi Fenghua’s earlier works and knew his shortcomings.

Compared to his slightly inexperienced painting technique, what was more fatal about Qi Fenghua was the similarity in the emotions depicted in his works. His paintings only portrayed positive emotions, which wasn’t inherently wrong, but if there were only positive emotions, it would appear overly false, like a castle in the air, making it difficult for people to empathize.

In these past two years, Qi Fenghua went through experiences unknown to others. His paintings suddenly began to exhibit some negative emotions, and the color palette shifted from bright and warm tones to a more subdued gray, which surprisingly accentuated his expertise in warmth.

For example, in this painting titled «Astonishing Waves», blue waves crashed against the shore, with white foam floating atop them. The contrast between the foam and the dimly lit beach was striking. The sky was filled with dark, looming clouds. In theory, this should have created a suffocating sense of oppression, but right in the center of the painting, a lighthouse stood firm, dispelling all darkness and guiding the fishermen home.

“Not bad,” Zhang Xiwei observed for a moment and nodded again. “This artwork has the potential to win a Silver Award. With a few more years of experience, this child could even aim for a Gold Award.”

Although his style had not fully matured and still appeared somewhat immature, Zhang Xiwei considered Qi Fenghua’s age and surprisingly showed tolerance.

The people around gathered together to admire the artwork that had received Zhang Xiwei’s approval. Zhang Xiwei glanced at it a few more times before stepping away from the oil painting section and moving towards the area where he excelled, traditional Chinese painting.

The more cherished something was, the stricter the criteria became. Zhang Xiwei’s previously relaxed brows furrowed once again.

“Unlike oil painting, you can’t achieve mastery in traditional Chinese painting after just a few years of study,” sighed the person standing next to Zhang Xiwei, also a prominent figure in traditional Chinese painting. “It takes over a decade to achieve some level of proficiency, and one wouldn’t dare call themselves a student of traditional Chinese painting without several decades of practice.”

“So, is that their reason for painting like this?” Zhang Xiwei said indignantly. “If I were them, I wouldn’t dare submit these paintings.”

As soon as his voice fell, Zhang Xiwei’s gaze halted on one particular painting. The person beside him followed his line of sight and was equally astonished.

“Whose child is this? Why did they paint so recklessly?”

This traditional Chinese painting, titled «Gift», was executed with the most orthodox ink and rice paper. It depicted a scene of the rising sun in a city.

The ink on the rice paper gently diffused, blurring the sharply defined lines of the buildings, which softened their coldness. The crimson sun emitted radiance, reflecting a reddish glow across the half-day sky. Soft light spilled onto the ground, emanating a warm glow.

While it was not unheard of for someone to employ classical painting techniques to depict modern scenes, this painting skillfully blended Western color blending and lighting techniques with the classical style, displaying exceptional artistry.

Apart from its unique style, what amazed people the most about this painting was the overwhelming expression of emotions that almost overflowed from the paper.

Zhang Xiwei was a more serious individual, but he was not an inflexible traditionalist. He saw no issue with the fusion of Eastern and Western techniques in this artist’s work. He was simply struck by the painting’s rich and profound emotional impact.

It was as if the brightness of a breaking dawn and the sudden realization of enlightenment. The gentle sunlight dispersed the shadows irresistibly, exuding an utmost tenderness.

“Qi Yuyu…” Zhang Xiwei seriously tried to recall but couldn’t find the name in his memory. “This child has the potential to win a Gold Award.”

Without realizing it, a crowd had already gathered around, with some people being amazed, others dissatisfied, and some wearing peculiar expressions.

“This kind of painting truly embodies the essence of art. If a painting lacks a soul, it’s merely a piece of paper. Only when it touches people’s hearts can it be considered a good work of art.”

“Hmph, it’s just a clever trick using unconventional methods. This person has deviated from the right path. Even without these tricks, relying solely on emotional expression would be enough to win a Gold Award.”

“This painting can be directly sent to the capital city. Let them see that without Yi Wusheng, we still have talented artists in Qingzhou.”

Everyone gathered around this painting, leaving Qi Fenghua’s «Astonishing Waves» forgotten.

Yi Qinglou’s parents were also among the judges. They didn’t know when they had come together, but they exchanged a glance with a hint of confusion. “This painting… and the painting by Wusheng…”

Yi Wusheng’s Gold Award-winning painting from the past was a sunset, an oil painting, and had no connection to this traditional Chinese painting depicting a sunrise. However, they inexplicably felt that this painting had a similar feeling to Yi Wusheng’s painting from years ago.